


Prologue to a Revolution

by Starfox5



Series: Hermione Granger and the Marriage Law Revolution [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6273424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfox5/pseuds/Starfox5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of Hogwarts, the prominent Death Eaters taken prisoners were tried and sentenced. But what happened to the rest of Voldemort's followers? What happened to the Snatchers and the others who did his bidding in the Ministry? Harry and Hermione are about to find out in the prologue to "Hermione Granger and the Marriage Law Revolution".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prologue to a Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the Harry Potter books or movies.

**Prologue to a Revolution**

“Jeremias Filburth, you stand before the Wizenagmot, accused of killing muggleborn Jane Marshall. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty.” Jeremias Filburth was actually sitting in front of the Wizengamot. As the accused in this trial he normally should have been chained to the chair, but the prosecution had waived that, claiming there was no risk of him attempting to escape. The wizard was well-dressed in an expensive robe and spoke with the confidence and self-assurance common to a pureblood. Harry Potter called it the typical arrogance of people like Draco Malfoy. Seated in the audience next to his friend Hermione Granger, he was watching the trial attentively. 

Not because he had a personal stake in it. He hadn’t known Jane Marshall or her family. Although since the accused wasn’t a marked Death Eater, or a prominent figure of Voldemort’s puppet regime, but a low-level employee of the Ministry for Magic’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he thought the trial might show him how the new Ministry was treating Voldemort’s helpers. Kingsley Shacklebolt’s wizards and witches were swift, at least - the Battle of Hogwarts was barely a month old, and all the prominent prisoners taken there and at the Ministry had already been tried. A number had been sent to Azkaban, Umbridge among them. A few, like the Malfoys, had been released. Harry had mixed feelings about that. Yes, he had spoken for them at their trial, mentioning the help they had given him and his friends at the end, but both Lucius as well as Draco Malfoy had been guilty of multiple crimes, including casting the Unforgivables. Some punishment would have been appropriate, or so he thought, even if they had redeemed themselves.

When he had heard news of many of the lower-ranked followers of Voldemort getting released, he had almost demanded harsher punishments through an interview for the Quibbler, but Hermione had persuaded him to let the DMLE work. “Trust the system, Harry”, she had said, “the war is over, we’re not fighting anymore, and we’re no Aurors or judges. Let them do their job. They did it with Umbridge and the others.”

He glanced at his best friend. Judging by her frown, she was not happy with how this trial was proceeding. He wasn’t happy either. The prosecutor was an awfully young wizard, barely older than himself it seemed, and the defense attorney seemed experienced - and good friends with a number of the Wizengamot members; they had seen him chatting amicably with several of them before the trial had started.

“As a Snatcher, the accused…” The prosecutor was interrupted almost at once.

“Objection! There are no records on file concerning those alleged ‘Snatchers’. Even if such groups had existed, there’s no proof the accused was part of them.”

“Sustained.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. They had heard that before. That all records concerning some of Voldemort’s most well-known and public forces had disappeared was very suspicious. Given the government’s love of paperwork, either the Death Eaters had been very quick and destroyed the records before the Ministry had fallen, or someone had vanished them at a later date. The new Minister had assured them he’d be looking into that, but in the weeks since then, nothing had been discovered.

The prosecutor started again: “The accused and five other wizards forcibly entered the home of the Marshall family in Birmingham in the evening of the 27th of November 1997 through the back door. The Marshalls were eating dinner in the kitchen. The muggles John and Mary Marshall, the parents of Jane Marshall, were killed at once and without warning while Jane Marshall herself was subdued with a Body-Binding Curse before she could draw her wand.”

“Objection! According to the official muggle records, the two muggles died of natural causes. This rules out any involvement by the accused or any other wizard.” The voice of the defense attorney almost drowned out the sudden sobs from a young girl, about 12 years old, sitting on a bench near the prosecutor. 

“Sustained.”

“Your honour, testimony from Sarah Marshall, the little sister of Jane Marshall, clearly states that her parents were killed with the Killing Curse within seconds of the door to their home being broken open.” The prosecutor didn’t sound angry, but resigned.

“Objection! The so-called witness is a muggleborn child who has not yet finished her second year at Hogwarts, she couldn’t identify any spell, much less a Killing Curse.”

“She described a gree…”

“Sustained.”

The girl on the bench was crying loudly now, shivering with grief.

The prosecutor sighed, and continued, sounding weary. “Sarah Marshall had been in the pantry at the time of the attack, and hid there. She could see her sister Jane held with a Body-Binding Curse, on the floor of the kitchen. The caster of that spell was identified by another wizard as ‘Filburth’”.

“Objection! Even if the testimony of a muggleborn child were to be trusted, an unknown man calling another ‘Filburth’ is not sufficient to identify the accused.”

“The witness recognized the accused in a confrontation at the DMLE.”

“Yes! Yes I did! It’s that man! He killed my sister!” The little girl was shouting and crying, pointing at Filburth with shaking fingers. The Auror near her pulled her down on the bench, but she struggled and cried, flailing her arms. “They killed my parents! My sister!”

“Bailiff, have this disturbance removed from the Wizengamot!” 

Harry almost stood up and intervened when the Auror silenced the sobbing girl and dragged her outside, but Hermione’s hand on his thigh held him back. 

“You cannot interfere in the trial, Harry!” she whispered urgently.

He glared at her, but nodded. She winced.

The prosecutor continued and described the rape and murder of Jane Marshall in detail. A number of witches and wizards among the audience were looking grim, or crying, even shocked, during this part. 

“Then all six wizards left, taking the body with them. And on the same day, Jeremias Filburth reported the death of a muggleborn witch resisting arrest on suspicion of sedition, and received the standard reward. The records from accounting prove this.”

Harry felt sick, and he saw that Hermione had trouble controlling herself as well. To think what horrors the little girl had seen, through the gap of the pantry… how long she had hid there while her sister was raped and murdered… 

“Jeremias Filburth, what do you say to those accusations?”

  
The accused stood up. “I do remember killing a mud… muggleborn that day, though I was simply following orders from the DMLE to arrest her as a suspect. When she resisted arrest, I was forced to kill her in self-defence.”

“Why are there no records of such an order at the DMLE?”

“It was a standing order to arrest all muggleborns suspected of stealing magic from purebloods.”

“And how did you identify the ones suspected of stealing magic?”

“Every muggleborn using a wand was a suspect.”

“Did you believe that someone could actually steal magic from another?”

“It is not my duty to wonder about such orders. I didn’t question them.”

“Albert Stone, the DMLE employee who signed off on the reward money, saw the body of Jane Marshall. He remembered clear signs of rape.”

“I would never sully myself like that with a muggleborn!” Filburth sneered at the Prosecutor. “Maybe some sick m-muggleborn did something to the body after I left.”

“If you simply wanted to arrest Jane Marshall, why didn’t you cast stunners or other non-lethal spells?”

“It was the only way to be safe. I didn’t want to risk her casting more spells at me.”

“Sarah Marshall described the events in detail, and described and identified you. What do you say to this?”

“The muggleborn must be lying. If she had been present I would have seen her.” The accused scoffed.

“Why would she be lying? Have you had interactions with the Marshalls before?”

“Of course not! I only frequent respectable circles. She is probably addled. You saw how hysterical she acted just before.” Filburth didn’t quite sneer, but it was close.

“Did you see the parents of Jane Marshall in their home when you arrived?”

“I don’t pay attention to muggles.” The man scoffed again.

“Your Honour, I request the use of Veritaserum on my witness and the accused.”

“Denied. The witness is not present and there is no need to subject the accused to such a humiliating procedure.”

The prosecutor didn’t protest, just continued his closing arguments with a resigned voice.

Then it was the defense’s turn. “Your Honour, esteemed members of the Wizengamot. We stand here to judge a man who has only done his duty to the Ministry, even in trying times, when our country was shaken by an insurrection. He is a pureblood, of an honorable family, whose uncle sits in this very chamber. Yes, he killed a witch, but as you heard, she resisted arrest. Many Aurors were forced to kill in the line of duty, especially during the recent troubles. If she had come quietly, she would still be alive today. The prosecution has no proof for its wild accusations other than some muggleborn girl’s fantasies. Today the accused was asked why the little girl would be lying. The answer is simple: The deaths of her parents, of natural causes according to the muggles themselves, addled what little wits she had. Who do you trust, the word of a honourable Wizard, or some little girl who didn’t even attend her second year Hogwarts?”

“Jeremias Filburth, do you wish to make a statement?”

“Your Honour, esteemed members of the Wizengamot. I have only done my duty to the Ministry, and obeyed what orders my superiors gave me. If this is a crime, then all my colleagues at the Ministry are guilty as well.”

The Wizengamot declared Filburth ‘not guilty’ with an overwhelming majority of lit wands. He waved to an older man, presumably his uncle, and left with a wide grin on his face.

Hermione was shaking her head, looking as if she could not believe what had transpired under her eyes. “Ah… well… if it’s Sarah’s testimony against his testimony, one could make a case for in dubio pro reo… but they didn’t even interrogate Sarah, nor allowed the use of veritaserum. And no one seemed to have investigated whether the muggle records were altered by Obliviators… it’s quite clear those were not natural causes. And they didn’t call the other witness who saw the body. If there were signs of rape that would disprove the accused’s story. This was a farce! What is Kingsley thinking, allowing this?” 

Harry could only agree with her.

More trials were scheduled on that day. More pureblood employees of the Ministry accused of murdering or helping to murder muggleborns. Harry and Hermione attended all of them. Every trial was over as quickly as the one they had just seen. Missing records, missing witnesses, no Veritaserum, and the defense always claimed the accused had simply been following orders and was an honorable pureblood. And the outcome was always the same: Acquittal. 

When Harry and Hermione left the Wizengamot, the witch was shaking with rage. “This is a sham! A farce! They never even once brought up the death of muggles, such things were never investigated! And all testimonies from muggleborns were dismissed or ignored! They are even talking as if Snatchers were just a rumor, and as if they honestly believed that muggleborns were stealing magic!”

Harry agreed with her. He didn’t say much though, still trying to come to grips with what he had seen, and trying to control his temper.

*****

Still angry, both tried to see Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister for Magic. The former Auror and member of the Order of the Phoenix received them in his recently refurbished office with a jovial smile. Hermione repeated what she had been telling Harry ever since the last trial of the day had ended, and he listened with a serious expression, nodding repeatedly in agreement while she talked.

“I know, Hermione. But there’s nothing I can do. The Wizengamot judges capital crimes, and I cannot intervene in the investigations. Fudge did that, and you all know how that turned out.”

“But they are not investigating anything! They dismiss all deaths of muggles, even though it’s rather clear that those records they quote were fabricated by the Obliviators. They do not interrogate the witnesses, or use Veritaserum. And they seem to conveniently have lost all records of the Ministry’s actions during the war. It’s 1982 all over again, but this time they do not even claim to have been under the Imperius, but simply claim to have been following orders, and the Wizengamot sets them free! That’s insane!”

Shacklebolt rubbed his head. “Hermione, Harry. I know it looks suspicious - I was an Auror myself. But the law is the law, I cannot start my term with meddling in the courts. I am not Fudge. At least the leader of the Death Eaters and Umbridge are now in Azkaban.”

“You could fire the head of the DMLE, and replace him with someone who cleans the place up so no more evidence disappears. And someone who cares about dead muggles!” Hermione said, staring at him.

“I can’t. We need every experienced wizard and witch to get the Ministry running smoothly again.” Shacklebolt smiled apologetically, but his tone was firm.

“I understand.”

From the way Kingsley smiled, Harry didn’t think he understood Hermione. He knew his friend very well, and he could see the signs that showed she was barely restraining herself from screaming in rage. Harry had trouble controlling his temper himself. While he didn’t show it, smiling politely instead, he felt betrayed by Shackleton. Stabbed in the back. After Umbridge’s trial he had thought things had changed. That this time, history wouldn’t repeat itself, that those who had murdered innocents wouldn’t get away. 

Harry and his friends hadn’t fought Voldemort just so the new Ministry could be run ‘smoothly and efficiently’, or to make sure Shacklebolt had a successful term as Minister for Magic while the purebloods protected each other just as they had done after the death of his parents. Too many had been murdered by Voldemort’s supporters, too many had lost family and friends to the Death Eaters, to the Snatchers, to the Aurors serving Voldemort. Too many had died. No one had the right to deny them justice. 

Harry hadn’t killed many in the war, and he had regretted each death he had caused. Well, not Voldemort. But now, for the first time in his life, he felt as if he hadn’t killed enough. Dead Snatchers couldn’t be set free with not even a slap on the wrist. It was easy to kill, especially in war, when the enemies were trying to kill him or his friends. A flick of his wand, a thought, and an enemy died. It took an effort not to kill, actually. To aim for the legs with a hex, and not for the head when the other wizards was sending killing curses at him, or at his friends. People kept claiming that killing was the ultimate sin, but he had trouble understanding that. It still sounded right, but It didn’t feel right, not anymore. Hadn’t since the time Voldemort had taken over, to be honest.

He couldn’t understand how Shacklebolt could tolerate this. Had the former Auror forgotten what those people had done under Voldemort? Had he forgotten how many muggleborns, many of them children, had been killed by the people he was now employing? Employing, and protecting. Shacklebolt claimed that he didn’t want to act like Fudge, but in Harry’s opinion the wizard seemed to be as willing as Fudge had been to sacrifice his morals in order to stay Minister. 

The two said their goodbyes, recovered their wands and left the Ministry. Once they were standing outside, on the streets of Muggle London, Hermione turned to him. 

“Harry, I was wrong. The system is not working,” she said in a clipped, cold tone.

“I know. Anyone can see that. But what can we do?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll think of something. They’ll not get away with this, not this time.”

Harry nodded. Hermione would think of something. She always did.

*****

Lucius Malfoy was in a quandary. On the surface, things looked well. His family had escaped the fate of many of the other more prominent followers of the Dark Lord after his defeat at Hogwarts. In hindsight that had even been a good thing. A half-blood ruling Britain? Unthinkable! Fortunately he had managed to spin his fall from the Dark Lord’s grace into an attempt at redemption. Thanks to Harry Potter speaking up for them it didn’t even cost him much to buy their freedom. A few donations to charity - selected charities, of course, who cared for the right causes - and some bribes to Wizengamot members. But this close to the end of the war, tempers still ran high. Especially among the uncultured mudbloods. While he and his wife knew how to act in public, to show a facade of remorse and humility, his scion, alas, had still not learned when to speak his mind, and when to remain silent. If left to his own devices it was just a matter of time before he and his friends would say the wrong thing to the wrong mudblood.

That the culprit would be executed and that such an act would help the Wizengamot’s efforts to restore the natural order those two half-bloods had upset so badly would be a small consolation for the loss of his heir. Draco still hadn’t learned that once he left Hogwarts the rules changed, and that people played for keeps. 

Lucius’s eyes widened. Once he left Hogwarts… This was the solution! The boy still had a lot to learn, and at Hogwarts he’d be safe during those volatile times. Even without Severus, the teachers would be protecting him. From others and his own folly. They had done so in all the years before, after all. In a year things would have settled down, and order would have been restored enough for purebloods who were a bit more outspoken than others to walk the streets safely again. 

Draco wanted to take his N.E.W.T.s as soon as the Ministry was able to schedule them, but given the quality of the education in the last years, an additional year would help his grades as well. And save on bribes to avoid embarrassing failures at the exams. He had to discuss this with Narcissa. And the Parkinsons and the Notts, of course. Draco would be more receptive to the idea if his friends were going back with him. 

Lucius winced. As much as he loved his son, the boy really had a tendency to whine. He was not looking forward to telling him he’d go back to school. At least he could sell the move as some solidarity with the mudbloods who had not been allowed to attend Hogwarts in the last year and would be returning to continue their undeserved education this year. That would placate some of the mudblood lovers in the Wizengamot.

After a glass of firewhiskey, Lucius picked up the latest letters from the Wizengamot. A Marriage Law, supposedly to repopulate Wizarding Britain after the terrible losses in the last war? He laughed. Anyone with some wit could see what the real purpose of the law was. That did exclude a number of Wizengamot members, of course. He read the proposal again. It was a bold move, that close to the defeat of the Dark Lord, but then, things were settling a bit faster than he had expected. It wouldn’t hurt him to support the law. At the least, it would cost the mudblood lovers political capital to prevent the law from being passed. But if it passed… Oh, the opportunities it would offer…

Lucius was in a much better mood than expected when he went to talk with Narcissa about Draco’s future.

******* **


End file.
